


A Matter of Trust

by Rehfan



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Scott McCall, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Dark Scott, Eventual Sterek, Human Alpha Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Masturbation, Omega Derek Hale, Omega Verse, Resistance, Scott McCall is a Bad Alpha, Self-Denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-11
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-03-01 00:49:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2753414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rehfan/pseuds/Rehfan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek Hale is an Omega.<br/>Don't worry, Stiles was surprised too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



“I really don’t want to be making this call, Stiles, but I need your help.”

Derek sounded desperate and a thrill of panic went through Stiles. He switched his phone to his other ear and stood up from his bed. “What are you talking about, Derek? Why me?”

“Because Scott’s an Alpha as well as an Alpha werewolf and you’re not,” he said. Stiles could hear him panting. Something was very wrong.

“You sound sick, dude,” said Stiles. “Have you been shot or stabbed or something? Aren’t you healing?”

“I’m not injured,” said Derek, his voice strained. “I just need a place to… be.”

“You sound hurt. Listen, if I’m helping you and walking into a trap, I want to know. Whatever I’m walking into I want to know. Otherwise I’m keeping out of it and calling Scott. So, level with me, buddy. If this is pack business you need to tell me what’s up. If you’re being watched, say something cryptic - something that you would never say but sounds casual. Ask how my dad is.”

“It’s not a trap, you idiot. I need your help.”

“Well if we’re not under attack and you need me… Wait. Why do you need me?”

There was a long pause. Stiles could see Derek pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration. Then he said the most unbelievable thing Stiles had ever heard: “I’m in heat.”

Now it was Stiles’ turn to pause. “What?”

“You heard me, Stiles. Now help me!”

“I can’t help you!” said Stiles, the shock of the news forcing him to sit on his bed. “You’re an Omega in heat and I’m an Alpha. Those two things don’t mix. You know that- Wait. You aren’t bound, are you? And since when are you even a friggin’ Omega?! I mean, I’m a terrible Alpha as Alpha’s go, but I never once scented you. What the hell, man?”

Derek groaned. “Deaton made me meds to suppress it. I ran out. He’s gone somewhere. I don’t know where. I can’t get a hold of him. You need to help me.”

“Why me?” he asked again.

Derek groaned in frustration. “I don’t trust Peter. Argent’s away. Scott’s a double Alpha. You’re the only one I’ve got.”

“Lydia’s-“

“No,” said Derek. “You.”

Stiles wanted to help him. He did. But what the hell? How would he control a rutting Omega/Beta werewolf? Where could he house such a beast? He tried to remember if he had chains in the basement as he listened to Derek panting and keening. Even now he could feel his own biological pull toward him. He felt heat spread to his groin when Derek begged again: “Please, Stiles. Please.”

“Fine,” said Stiles, his mouth a thin line of determination. “Can you get here safely?”

Derek huffed what passed for a laugh. “Don’t worry about me,” he said. “As long as I have a destination, getting there won’t be a problem.”

“Okay, be here in a half an hour,” said Stiles. “I’ll do what I can.” The phone clicked in his ear and Stiles held it from his face looking at the screen. “You’re welcome,” he said to its dark screen and made for his father’s medicine cabinet.

 

~080~

 

He didn’t really feel too much of a difference when the half hour was up and he awaited Derek by the front door. The suppressants his dad took for work always seemed like they were enough for him, so if Stiles took a couple – you know, just until Derek was through his heat – it would be okay. But he didn’t feel any different. He paced back and forth and bit his thumbnail. He scented the air looking for the strong smell of an Omega getting closer, but he detected nothing. “Where are you? Where are you?” he muttered.

If Derek was an unbound Omega there was grave danger for him during his heat. If he were found by any Alpha, human or wolfkind, he could be bitten and claimed by that Alpha within smelling distance. Most Omegas in heat couldn’t control themselves; he probably wouldn’t fight back if he had lost his mind to his own chemistry. If he were found and decided to defend himself, trumping those Omega instincts with some wolfish primal urge for fight or flight, he could wind up a murderer. Society wasn’t perfect, but any human Omega that kills an Alpha was usually locked up tight in a breeding camp for anyone to fuck. Stiles shivered at the thought of Derek in one of those places. If he wolfed out there, he’d be shot dead for sure, Omega or no Omega. No one wanted to mate with a freak and werewolves would be dangerous freaks to the rest of the human race.

There was a loud thump from upstairs. He heard his bed creak.

He crept up the stairs slowly and pushed open his bedroom door, the scent pulling him in but not overpowering him. Derek Hale was sweaty, heaving, and humping his mattress. “Stiles,” he choked. He fisted the sheets tightly and brought them to his nose, inhaling Stiles’ scent.

Stiles stood in the doorway, a mix of confused emotions. On the one hand, he had taken the suppressants and damned if they didn’t work a treat. He felt no sudden urge to rut against the writhing creature on his bed. On the other hand: Derek was a writhing creature on his bed. On. His. Bed.

He watched with a combination of horror and fascination as Derek sought out relief from his scent in his bed linens. His t-shirt seemed soaked through, the light blue material darkened by sweat at the armpits and down the line of his back. His jeans clung to him. Stiles had heard about Omegas in heat but had never actually seen one and for the most part, he was fascinated. That was, until Derek grabbed his own ass and started to press into his crack for the sensitive opening; then he lost the ability to speak for a moment. The material covering his cunt was soaking too, but not with sweat. Stiles could see his hand was wet and sticky with his estrus.

Derek let out a low growl. Stiles tore his eyes from Derek’s ass and locked onto wolf’s eyes. He swallowed hard and said: “Oh hey, buddy!” He gave him a weak wave and a concerned look.

“Stiles,” said Derek again. It seemed to be the only word he was capable of until he added: “Help me.”

Stiles felt a tug of sympathy but it wasn’t enough to make him want to mount Derek and knot him or anything. Not that he didn’t want to knot Derek. I mean, who wouldn’t, right? Because Derek Hale is a moody but beautiful bastard and worthy of knotting.

“Easy, pal,” said Stiles. “I’m just gonna lead you somewhere where you can’t hurt yourself or others.”

“You’re an Alpha,” said Derek. Stiles could see that it was an effort for Derek to speak; his hormones were telling him to open his ass and get fucked. He was straining to think past it all. “How are you not on top of me?”

“Oh well, dad has suppressants for work, so I took a few,” said Stiles. “Well… more like five, but I figured between the Alpha/Omega thing and the Beta werewolf overpowering me thing, I’d need all the resistance I could get.” He smiled weakly and took a tentative step forward. “You want to come with me, Derek? I’ll get you comfy and you can ride it out.” Stiles nodded as he spoke, subliminally suggesting agreement.

“Please,” said Derek. “And no one can know. Please.”

“I understand,” said Stiles and he took a few more steps into the room. He offered his hand to Derek who sniffed at it and grabbed his arm. Stiles fell against Derek with a small gasp and a “whoa!” of surprise. In the blink of an eye he was on top of a squirming Derek who was desperately trying to get Stiles hard by rutting his ass up against his crotch. “Jesus, man! What the hell?!” yelled Stiles. He extricated himself quickly and leaped back out of the range of Derek’s outstretched arms.

“Stiles, please…” Derek begged. “Help me.”

He looked so lost, it made Stiles’ heart break a little. For a fleeting moment he considered getting him off with his fingers or something, but he wasn’t too sure that the not-sex-drunk version of Derek would appreciate that little maneuver. A thought occurred to him then that was risky, but might be do-able if he could get enough of a head start. He knew he was crazy to consider the idea, it not exactly being one of his best, but then most of his ideas to get out of trouble usually got him in deeper, so if this went tits up too, he’d really only be doing what he always did- hey, points for consistency anyway. He decided to test the waters.

“You want me to help you, Derek?”

“Yes… Stiles. Need you.”

“You want me to fuck you?”

Derek just groaned, Stiles’ words causing him to pant and writhe all over again. A new shot of heat went through Stiles at that, but again, there was no undeniable urge to mate underneath it and for that Stiles was grateful. Still… Derek was so ready for fucking… _No, dammit. Stay on point._

“Okay then,” Stiles said. He backed out of his room slowly, step by step, Derek’s eyes flashing blue as he watched him carefully, predatorily. “Okay, there Der. Just give me one minute, okay? Gotta… um, gotta go get some lube.” He thumbed over his shoulder toward the open door and corridor beyond. “Be right back, okay?”

“Are you playing me, Stilinski?” asked Derek, his eyes narrowing.

“Nope,” he said. “Just seriously give me a minute, okay?” He slipped around the edge of the doorframe and tore down the hall at full speed to the attic stairs. He pulled the cord to get the stairs down, unfolded them, and climbed up. The attic was cool and smelled faintly of mothballs. He had cleared out a corner of it months ago with his dad as a sort of make-shift panic room. He had prepared it for Derek with an old futon mattress and some soft blankets and pillows. If there’s one thing they teach you when you’re an Alpha it’s that Omegas like soft things during a heat. Stiles blinked and thought that Derek’s clothes must be killing him. He’d have to dig around and try to find something in size wolf for him to wear.

He looked over his shoulder and faintly heard Derek calling for him. The space he and his dad had built was perfect to keep wolves out, but tonight it was going to be used to keep a wolf in. He thanked the creator above that they decided to create this little panic space should the shit hit the fan and a pack attack happen. The whole corner of the attic was covered in mountain ash wood. Walls, ceiling, floors: every surface creating the perfect cage for a werewolf. A single door gave access and it stupidly only opened outward; Stiles had to spend some time building a bar and brackets from some spare mountain ash to secure it from the outside. It would be a trick getting Derek in, but keeping him in until he could close and bar the door? He let himself inside the room and hastily unscrewed the jar of mountain ash dust kept on a nearby shelf. He grabbed a fistful and turned toward the door.

Derek Hale stood panting and sweating in the doorway.

“Oh hey, buddy!” said Stiles. “I got the bed all nice and comfy for you. Why don’t you take a look?” He nodded toward the futon, piled high with the blankets and pillows.

“What the hell is this place?” asked Derek, his chemistry trumped by the wolf’s instinct to run from so much mountain ash.

“Just come inside,” said Stiles. “Have a lie down. I’ll get the lube. We can party!”

“You’re holding a jar of ash and a fistful of ash and you want me to come into a room made of ash and you think I wouldn’t be the least bit suspicious?”

Stiles dropped the fake smile. “Listen, you asked for my help; this is me helping. Get the hell in this room and get comfortable before I surround you in a circle of mountain ash and leave you whimpering in a pile of your own slick.” Stiles stared hard at him praying that the look he was giving him was stern enough to sway his primal urges into submission so logic could take over. As soon as Derek looked away first, he knew he had won. “Come on,” urged Stiles as Derek stepped tentatively into the room. “There you go, Der. Everything’s going to be fine. Just relax. Breathe. It’ll all be good.” He moved quickly to the doorway and slapped down a line of ash just as Derek reached back for him, claws out and desperate.

The howl of despair that Derek let out was enough to deafen. He fell to his knees on the circular carpet in the center of the room, the picture of rejection. “Just needed you, Stiles. Your cock. Please. Please, Stiles. Knot me. Want it.” He turned himself and actually _presented_ to him.

Stiles was shocked to his shell-tops. “And as much as I would like for that to happen, I really think that sane-you would not appreciate it. Like- at all. So, rather than have my throat ripped out by not-in-heat you, I think I’ll choose the wiser path and just lock you in here. Don’t worry, you’ll get the basics. But you’ll stay in here until your heat breaks or until Deaton gets back. Got it?” asked Stiles.

Derek began to sob. “Please… please, Stiles.”

Stiles squatted down by the doorway, getting as close to Derek as he dared, the Alpha in him unable to bear witness to a suffering Omega. “Shh…” he soothed. It felt better to comfort him. “It’s all going to be okay, Derek. A day, maybe two, and you’ll be fine. It’ll pass. It’s okay.”

Derek collapsed into the fetal position in the middle of the carpet. “You don’t want me,” he whimpered. Stiles shook his head. There was nothing more that he could do comfort-wise. It broke his heart to do so, but he closed the door, barred it, and went downstairs to hunt up some soft clothing for Derek. He’d need all the help he could get if this was his first heat in a while.

 

~080~

 

Deaton wasn’t answering his cell so Stiles called his sister, Marin. “He’s in Mexico,” she told him. “I can’t say much more, only that he’s investigating the church. He needed to know more for himself.”

“Yeah, well… tell him to be careful, okay? Things there were creepy enough for us the first time around.”

“I will,” she said. “That Braeden woman is down there meeting him. He’ll be fine.”

Stiles had one more question: “Do you know anything about werewolf Omega suppressants?”

There was a slight pause. “I don’t know how he did it, but there was something- Is this about Derek?”

“Yeah,” he said. He didn’t trust Marin as much as he did Deaton, but she was the only resource he had.

“Is he running low?”

“Not exactly,” said Stiles, running a nervous hand through his hair.

“Are you telling me,” she said slowly, “that he’s out completely?”

“I guess he didn’t notice or something?” asked Stiles. “Hey, it could happen to anyone, right?”

“You have a human Omega/werewolf Beta in heat with you right now?” she asked.

“Yep.”

“And you are a…?” she asked.

“Alpha,” Stiles squeaked out the word.

“Oh Maker save us!” she wailed. “Please tell me he’s unconscious or something.”

“He’s locked in a room made completely of mountain ash,” he said. “Does that make you feel better?”

“Only slightly, Stiles,” she said. “Wait, why aren’t you rutting him instead of calling me?”

“Suppressants. My dad had some for- Look. Can you help him or not?” he asked. He felt like he was running out of time. Faintly he heard something thump the flooring a few levels above him.

“No,” Marin said. “But he’s been suppressing this heat for many years, Stiles. You need to lock your home and leave. No Alpha can be around him – human or supernatural – and they will want to be. It’s bad enough that he’s an Omega in heat and unbound but because he’s also a werewolf, he’ll be dangerous to any Alpha that approaches him. If he’s struggling between not being mated (which would be the Beta wolf side of himself) and mating (the human Omega urge), he could either claw any unwelcome Alpha to death or claw any welcome Alpha to death – not a great deal of distinction between the two. Either way, he’ll be put down. You know humans don’t like Omegas to think for themselves and suppress their natures. And you also know the penalty for an Omega who kills an Alpha.”

“Breeding camps… or worse,” said Stiles, his mouth suddenly dry. “And if they find out he’s a wolf and in my house, my dad loses his job for sheltering an unbound Omega and Derek still loses his freedom. Don’t worry. He won’t leave and I won’t let anyone in. He’ll be fine.”

“Good luck, Stiles,” she said. “And tell your father what’s going on. If his suppressants are waning, he may want to take another dose before going to bed – unless you can get him to sleep somewhere else.”

“Thanks, Marin,” he said. He didn’t want to tell his dad anything, to be honest, but she was right: there was no way around it. His dad was an Alpha. He’d scent Derek in a heartbeat if his suppressants were waning. The phone call to his dad went better than he expected; Sheriff Stilinski had long since become accustomed to the supernatural stuff that tended to happen in his town. He would take extra suppressants that night. Regardless, when Stiles hung up the phone, he felt drained. He allowed himself a moment to relax against the couch and sort through all the things he had to get done before his dad got home from his shift: water and food for Derek, suppressants at the door for his dad, more suppressants for himself, dinner for him and his dad, and then his dad would probably want to look in on Derek before they went to bed.

There was another thud from above. He sighed knowing he had to go check to see if Derek had hurt himself. Not that he wouldn’t heal, but his chemistry was off. He might not heal quickly if his biology was out of whack. He wrapped up a sandwich he had prepared earlier and a few bottles of water in a kitchen towel and headed upstairs.

His knock on the door was light but completely unnecessary. “Stiles,” a weak voice greeted him. “Please.” It was the same two words that had met him when he threw some soft clothing to a very naked Derek earlier. Stiles had been right about his clothes being too coarse against his skin. What he was wrong about was not getting to ever get to see Derek Hale naked and begging to be fucked, thighs slick, cock hard, on all fours and presenting to him. Even with the suppressants he was hard pressed to throw the clothes and back away, securing the door tightly behind him, trying to remind himself that this wasn’t the real Derek. The real Derek would kill him for looking at him sideways with anything resembling lust at that amazing body of his.

Stiles shook the memory from his mind as he answered Derek’s call: “Hey Der. Listen, I’ve got some food here for you but you’ve got to keep away from the door, okay?” He took up another handful of mountain ash dust and unlocked the door, the dust held tightly in his fist, the food dangling from the kitchen towel in the other. He opened it slowly.

Derek was on the futon mattress and staring at the door, his eyes flashing from human to the bright blue of a Beta. He was fighting it. “Good man, Derek. You keep fighting, wolf boy. That’s good that you’re fighting. Keep it up, okay?” He set the food and water just inside the perimeter of the ash threshold, never taking his eyes from the pained expression on Derek’s face. “I’m sorry this is happening to you,” he said.

“Thanks,” Derek managed, his teeth clenched, canines prominent. His breath heaved making the cotton t-shirt Stiles gave him to wear stretch even tighter across his back. The sweatpants he gave him were a bit snug as well, but at least they were absorbing the majority of the wet and covering his erection. He was rutting against the mattress subtly, muscles flexing under the gray cotton and making Stiles salivate. “Like what you see?” Derek asked. As soon as the words were out of his mouth he clenched his eyes shut and groaned.

Terrified and embarrassed that he was spotted staring at Derek’s perfect undulating ass, Stiles backed away from the doorway. “I’ll be back with my dad before we go to bed. Try and relax. It’ll be fine, Derek.” He closed the door before the desperate werewolf could respond.

This day needed to end and end now.


	2. Chapter 2

The next day was Saturday and Stiles was placed on Omega/Beta werewolf-sitting duty thanks to his dad. Bad enough that his house was being invaded by a werewolf, but for that werewolf to also be an unbound Omega… it was almost too much for the good sheriff to bear. He left Stiles with some extra suppressants and strict instructions on how to care for an Omega in heat: soft things, lots of water, and three squares a day. He also asked that his son try to wash most of his scent from himself before approaching the attic stairs – it seemed to set Derek on edge.

It was a good plan with one glaring exception: Derek was a werewolf too. Granted, as a supernatural creature, he was powerful, but as a Beta of his pack, he didn’t have the authority of an Alpha. Of course it was weird to imagine what an Omega/Alpha werewolf would be like. Stiles’ brain swam with the paradox.

There was a loud thump from above. “Stiles!”

He groaned and yelled: “I’ll be up with your lunch in a minute, Derek!”

“Stiles!”

He rolled his eyes at the plea in Derek’s voice. He never knew that tall dark and grumpy could be whiney as well. “Shut up!” An unnerving silence followed. Stiles quickly cut the sandwich in half and raced up the stairs with the plate. There was a low whimper that met his ears when he got to the door. “Hey Derek. I’ve got your lunch, man.” Another whimper, this one seemingly more pathetic than the last. “I’m going to open the door now, okay? You remember our deal? You’ve got to back away from the door. Neutral corners, buddy.” The moan that came from the other side of the door would have to serve for an answer in the affirmative as Derek seemed past the point of using his words.

“You know,” said Stiles as he got a handful of mountain ash in his hands, “this would have been no sweat for you if you had managed to let yourself have a heat every now and again. I think because you’ve been taking Deaton’s suppressants for so long, you’ve been rendered a complete slave to your biology. You’ve got to let your body breathe once in a while, Der.”

He opened the door and Derek was _right there_.

Stiles fell backward gracelessly, the plate going one way, his handful of ash cast uselessly to the floor. Derek stepped through the door, careful not to touch the wood. “Shit,” he said. “I told dad we needed a mountain ash sill on that doorway.” His eyes flew to Derek who was heaving and sweating above him. “I’m still suppressed, Der. And you’re still in heat.” Before he could speak another word, Derek was on top of him and inhaling deeply.

“Smell so good, Stiles,” he said. He buried his nose in his neck and Stiles tried not to actively panic.

“Derek,” pleaded Stiles, “focus please? Because this is not you, okay? You really need to not do this thing, alright?”

“Want your knot in me, Stiles,” said Derek, his voice husky with lust. He began to rut against Stiles’ thigh.

And as much as I appreciate that,” said Stiles weakly, “I have to say no. I mean, I really really don’t want to lick the sweat off your abs. Totally resisting the urge, okay? Because I know that the real you would never let me touch him.”

Derek pulled his head back and smirked, “Shows what you know.” He set his nose deep into Stiles’ armpit and inhaled. Stiles squirmed in surprise and cried out causing Derek to growl low in his throat.

He seemed to be taking his time with exploring Stiles’ body as though he had forever to map his skin and the longer he snuffled and breathed hot air all over, the less Stiles could feel the effects of his father’s suppressants in his system. It was as though his own biology was resisting the chemical influence in favor of his own natural chemistry. This was becoming awful – and dangerous. He had to find a way to get Derek back in the room.

“Please, Derek,” said Stiles, pleading to the Beta werewolf inside the human Omega, “please fight this. You have to. Please. Because I’m only human. And you’re kind of gorgeous. And I really think my dad’s suppressants are wearing off, okay?”

Derek pulled his head back at that. “I can’t, Stiles. You smell so good to me right now. Even with the suppressants. I can still smell your Alpha scent.” Derek hiked up Stiles’ shirt and inhaled loudly along his midline.

“Oh fuck,” said Stiles. Derek’s hands were at his nipples and he was practically a goner. The only reason he hadn’t flipped the werewolf was because he had to believe that the suppressants were doing their job, albeit a feeble one. “Derek,” he said, mustering all the Alpha authority he could in his voice, “stop.”

Derek let out a whine of despair. Stiles was struck with another idea. “I can’t mount you this way, can I?” he said, regretting the words as soon as he spoke them, because as soon as the sentence was complete, Derek’s eyes lit up like Christmas and he looked so relieved that Stiles felt like shit for lying.

“No, no,” said Derek eagerly, “no you can’t. Please, Stiles.” He turned around and splayed himself, presented himself to Stiles. Stiles nearly died from the view alone. He wanted to bury his face in that ass just before he buried his cock in it. He wanted more than anything to knot this beast before him, but he had to think of the man inside.

“On the mattress, Derek,” he said. “You’d be more comfortable on the mattress, wouldn’t you? Need to take care of my Omega.”

Derek threw him a smirk over his shoulder and practically crawled back to the futon in the room. Stiles didn’t bother to get up. He hooked his foot around the edge of the door and kicked it closed with all his might. Scrambling to his feet, he barred it just as Derek reached it. He felt the hard thump of Derek’s weight hitting the door, but it was pure mountain ash. There was no escape for him.

For the second time in as many days, Stiles heard Derek howl in despair. It was the loneliest sound he had ever heard.

 

~080~

 

Day three of Derek’s heat and he claimed that he was feeling much better. Stiles decided to risk just taking one suppressant that morning. Ok, so his dad left him only two to take for the day, but he thought it might be okay. He figured he could handle Derek just so long as he didn’t do anything too stupid.

“Guess it’s just like the phases of the moon, huh?” asked Stiles as he sat just beyond the line of mountain ash he placed in the doorway as Derek ate his lunch. “Three days and it’s pretty much over.”

“Only I can control it and I don’t stink,” said Derek around his mouthful of ham and Swiss. Stiles grimaced. They hadn’t considered putting in a shower when his dad and he build the shelter; they were lucky to remember to install the small toilet in the corner. Derek caught Stiles’ look and remorsefully looked down at the half-eaten sandwich and mumbled: “Thanks, Stiles.” His green eyes met Stiles’ chocolate brown, making the younger man squirm a bit under their sincerity.

“No problem, Der,” said Stiles. “I mean… you’d have done the same for me, right?”

“Probably not,” said Derek.

Stiles blinked at him. “Well, points for honesty, but fuck you very much.”

“I would have let you bathe,” he retorted. Then he smiled, a rare moment for him and Stiles was struck by the beauty of it.

‘Wow,” he said reflexively.

Derek’s smile dropped instantly: “What?”

“No n-nothing,” stammered Stiles. He could feel his face reddening.

Derek must have caught the look in his eyes because he stared intensely at him. “You know my heat isn’t entirely over, Stiles. I can still scent you. And you still do smell wonderful.” Derek was encouraged by the deeper blush that spread over his skin. “And all it would take you would be to cross that line. Or break it.”

 “Um… I think I’ve gotta go do a load of laundry. In the basement. Yeah. Gotta go.” He scrambled to his feet and ran down the stairs, hit the basement door without stopping, burst through down those stairs to the basement and didn’t stop until he came up against the washer. He was breathing hard and his head was spinning. Derek Hale had to leave his house before he lost all damned control.

He looked over and spied his dirty laundry, a sock hanging over the basket edge. “Aw fuck it,” said Stiles… and then he did. It only took a moment for him to undo his flies and start stroking his cock, the sock forming a sheath around his shaft, soft cotton easing its way up and down along his length. His mind wandered to Derek’s striking eyes, his strong jawline, his back and shoulders, and that undeniably fuckable ass. He came hard and felt much better for it.

“Stiles!” cried Derek faintly from the attic space. “God damn it… So good… Please, Stiles!”

“Jesus!” said Stiles. “You can fucking scent me from there?”

“Werewolf!”

“Of course,” Stiles smacked his hand against his forehead and dragged it down his face. “Of course.”

 

~080~

 

He came back to Derek after having a shower. It occurred to him that Derek would appreciate the same, considering his earlier complaint. He set it up for him to take one in his dad’s bathroom rather than the one he used, his scent would be too strong in there and he was spending far too much time with him than he should. He didn’t want to make Derek nuts.

“Ok,” said Stiles as he shifted his weight nervously from foot to foot, “here’s the plan…” Derek cocked his head to the side and gave Stiles a look that said “Really? This ought to be good.” Stiles pointed at his silent doubtfulness and said: “Shut up. Here’s the plan: I’m going to break the ash line. BUT – you have to sit there for a few minutes until you hear the front door slam shut. Then you’re to go to my dad’s bathroom and into his shower. I’ll give you twenty minutes and you’re on your honor.”

“And you expect me to be alright with that?” asked Derek. “Suppose I chase you down?”

“And suppose another Alpha scents and claims you?” he asked.

“But you’re my Alpha,” said Derek. Stiles nearly choked on his own spit. Derek gave him a wry smile and added: “At least, that’s what I’ll say.”

“And then I’ll be labeled as a bad Alpha who can’t bond his Omega, which will be the biggest surprise to no one, and they’ll take you anyway. Either way, you’d lose out, dude. Total suckitude for you. Forever.” He emphasized the last word by leaning forward into it and exaggerating the enunciation of the word.

Derek’s head sank because he knew Stiles was right. Omegas had a distinct disadvantage in this world and while his status and strength as a werewolf were far superior, his Omega status as a human negated them both. He had little to no rights; he was less than human and more than human all at the same time. It was horrible. He never wanted his suppressants so badly in his life. He hated being beholden and judged by his biology. And he did need a shower. Three days cooped up in this small space was getting to him. It would be nice to feel clean. He looked sheepishly at Stiles, wanting him, but reasoning that his want was outweighed by logic and law. “Okay,” he said. “You win. Where do I go?”

Stiles gave him directions to his father’s bathroom. He brushed the ash line aside, breaking the circle, and ran outside.

Derek was good about it. He willed himself not to chase down Stiles like prey in the woods and he stood his ground. Once he heard the front door slam he felt proud that he didn’t give in. He stepped over the broken line and made his way slowly through the house as he was told. He had made it halfway down the hall, every joint in his body screaming from the strain he had spent three days undergoing, Stiles’ suggestion once more echoing in his mind about giving himself some heats every once in a while just to keep things in check. He wasn’t wrong.

By the time he got to Stiles’ door he was exhausted and the scent of the two Alphas in the house was deliriously intoxicating. He knew he had to move on to the next doorway, through the bedroom, and into the bathroom, but he didn’t have the stamina. He was too drained. Behind him about six feet was the doorway to the bathroom Stiles used. Good enough.

He pressed into the doorway, his legs aching and his head pounding. He came across a towel rack with a couple of towels hanging on it and he buried his nose in one that smelled like Stiles. Instantly, his head cleared a bit and he felt his heart rate go down. Stiles was actually a calming presence for him. He had suspected as much, but didn’t have a way to confirm it until now. Showering here was beginning to make more and more sense.

He turned on the taps and stepped into the steaming stream, closing the shower doors behind him.

 

~080~

 

“Hey Stiles,” said Scott as he came up from the street.

“What’s up, man?” Stiles smiled broadly at his best friend but rushed down his front steps to meet him. Scott being a double Alpha meant trouble when there was an Omega in heat around. He didn’t want Scott getting one sniff.

“What’s going on?” asked Scott. “I haven’t heard from you all weekend and you haven’t returned any of my texts. Why do you smell funny?”

“What?” asked Stiles.

“You smell… different,” said Scott.

“Oh that’s probably the suppressants,” said Stiles with a smile that quickly faded as he anticipated Scott’s next question.

“Why are you taking suppressants?” asked Scott. Of course he asked that.

“Because I need to for right now,” said Stiles. “Matter of fact, you may want to take a few yourself. You know, be one of the cool kids.”

“Um… no thanks,” said Scott. “What are you up to?”

“Me? Nothing,” said Stiles. His answer sounded false even to him.

“Uh-huh,” said Scott, agreeing but not believing. “Something’s up. What’s going on, man? We’re best friends.”

“I know,” said Stiles with a sigh, “but I gotta just do this thing, Scotty. I need you to respect that, okay?”

“What thing?” asked Scott. “Are you trying to fight something alone? Because if you are, we need to call the pack. We’re stronger with the pack.”

“Whoa, whoa… no need to fly off the handle, dude,” said Stiles. “It’s not a pack thing. It’s a me thing.”

“A “you thing” you need to take suppressants for?” asked Scott.

“Just let me-“ said Stiles, cutting himself off as he watched Scott become all too focused on his house behind him. “What?”

“What are you keeping from me, Stiles?” said Scott. Stiles felt his heart rate rise. “There’s something in the house. What are you-“ Scott sniffed at the air and for a terrified moment Stiles thought he was going to have to put himself between two werewolves, both of whom would be lit up by mating pheromones.

“Who is that?” Scott asked slowly, his curious gaze moving from the house to Stiles’ face.

“A- a- friend?” said Stiles.

Scott grinned broadly and half-kidding he said: “Don’t tell me you’ve got an Omega in there.”

“No! No! No no no no no…. No!” said Stiles uncomfortably. “No, I do not have an Omega in my house. Just me and my dad: two Alpha males. Hanging out and having fun.”

Scott nodded and with a knowing grin he said: “And a friend… who happens to be an Omega.” His grin faded a bit as a scent passed him. Stiles regarded his best friend, a look of terror on his face. “An Omega in heat.” He glared at Stiles, fully aware of the situation and all its consequences. “Your dad got a mate?”

“What? No!”

“Your dad got you a mate?”

Stiles’ face dropped and he stared flatly at Scott. “Thanks, Scotty. Thanks a lot. Because I’m such a shit Alpha I need my dad to pimp me a mate. Fantastic. Glad to know you hold me in such high regard.”

“But there is an Omega in heat in that house,” said Scott. He seemed half dazed with the notion. A goofy grin spread across his features. “And if the Omega isn’t your dad’s or yours… then it’s unbound. An unbound Omega… shit.”

He stepped toward the house and Stiles stood in his way. “No! Scotty, no! Think about what you’re doing, man!”

“I’m only thinking about what I’m going to do,” said Scott and he pushed Stiles aside, easily casting his best friend to the ground.

Stiles got up hurriedly and got in Scott’s way again. “You can’t.” Scott kept walking anyway and Stiles backed up to stay in front of him.

Scott raised his eyebrows and smiled. “Sure I can,” he said. “An unbound Omega is a goldmine. Where did you find it?”

“’It’?” protested Stiles, “’It’? ‘It’ is a HE, I’ll have you know. And the He that is in my house is… protected.”

“Oh yeah?” asked Scott.  “By who?”

“By an Alpha,” said Stiles. “Me.”

This stopped Scott in his tracks. “You?” he asked around a laugh. “Stiles, you’re the worst Alpha in history – by your own admission.” He shook his head. “You’re telling me you have an unbound Omega in there that’s ripe and your answer to that gift of a situation is to _take suppressants_?”

Stiles threw up his hands in surrender. “Call me a hopeless romantic,” he said. “I think two people should get to know one another first before doing-“

“He rejected you, didn’t he?”

“What? No!” said Stiles, his mind automatically flashing on Derek begging to be knotted over the past three days. It had been hell to say no to him, even with the chemicals in his system. “I just think that this is a bad time. That’s all.” It wasn’t exactly a lie.

Scott attempted to get past him again, his biology overriding his friendship. “Scott, don’t!” said Stiles.

“What’s his name?” asked Scott. He had that far away look in his eyes again. “You know what? Nevermind. I’ll ask him myself.”

Thank God his dad liked gardening and was also lazy. The garden shovel was right there and Scott was so distracted by the scent he was following…

Stiles winced at the sound of the shovel as it rang off the top of Scott’s head. The boy sprawled in the grass motionless but breathing and Stiles took all of two seconds to evaluate this before running for the door. He locked it and went around to all the windows and doors locking himself in with Derek who, from the sound of things, was not only in the shower, but enjoying himself immensely. “Hey, will you cut it with the hot water usage please? Our bills are high enough without-“

He had been making his way down the corridor toward his dad’s room when he stopped in front of his bathroom door. The sound of running water and lascivious moaning was coming from behind it and all it took was a small push for “door ajar” to become “door open”. The shower stood opposite the doorway and beyond the opaque glass he saw the long raw line of Derek Hale: arm cradling his head as he leaned forward against the tile, water no doubt beating on his back as he probed his ass with his other hand.

Stiles couldn’t take it anymore. He had told him to use his dad’s shower. He had told him to be quick about it. He had told him to behave. But that was one shovel-to-Scott’s-head ago and Stiles felt the distinct Alpha urge to care for Derek. He saw him struggling and thought: _It would be so simple to help him through it. Just two fingers, maybe three would do. He would probably thank me for it. It would be alright. I just smacked the hell out of my best friend on my own front lawn and left him for dead, what’s two fingers up a man’s cunt gonna hurt?_

He had never felt as strong a pull as this before. He had pined after Lydia, to be sure, but Lyds was a beta and his attraction was just because she was pretty, and smart, and wonderful… whatever. This was different. This was the Alpha urge: the one that mandated that the Alpha care for the Omega – especially one in heat. It was overwhelming. All he knew was that his Omega needed him and he wasn’t helping, he wasn’t doing his job. He still felt like the worst Alpha in history, but now that feeling was quadrupled and had had a litter of smaller disappointments – the kind with teeth and fangs. He had to prove himself worthy. He had to help Derek. He had to do something. And that’s probably why Stiles didn’t remember getting into the shower fully clothed and eyeing Derek’s wet hole.


	3. Chapter 3

The whine that emanated from Derek Hale was epic. Stiles watched with slack-jawed fascination as his hands reached toward the writhing werewolf.

Stiles licked his lips in anticipation of touching all that skin. “Shhh, Der,” he whispered. “It’s all going to be alright. I just want to help you, okay? You’re pretty stressed with this heat. Just want to make it easier for you, baby.” He hovered his hands over him; his flesh feverishly hot even at a distance.

Derek keened and Stiles felt heat spread to his cock. He had never knotted anyone in his life and he wanted to with Derek now. He wanted to touch and caress, lick and bite, knot and bond with him to protect him - if only to keep him safe. But the trace remains of the suppressants told him it would be a very bad idea. It was bad enough that he had violated Derek’s wishes by joining him in the shower. Now he was considering transgressing further by penetrating him with his fingers, his tongue, his cock, all unbidden. Derek was too lost to his own biology to make the clear-headed decision here. That was why he sought out Stiles for help to begin with. If Stiles truly wanted to help Derek, truly be his Alpha, he needed to stop. He needed to respect Derek’s wishes.

With a superhuman effort, Stiles retreated from the shower, running for his own bedroom. He slammed the door behind him and fell back against it, chest heaving with the strain of the moment, wet clothes clinging to him. He just managed to strip off his soaking shoes and socks when there was a pounding on the door. He could smell Derek before he heard him call out: “Stiles! Please Stiles… don’t do this to me.”

Stiles’ heart wanted to rip itself out of his chest and he cried out with a small pitiful wail. “Sorry man,” he said, petting the door with the back of his knuckles. “I forgot to take my second dose. I’ll be with you in ten, okay?” The pounding got louder and Stiles remembered – werewolf with super-human strength, right. He leapt to his feet, scrambling for the medication, all the while calling out to him: “You really don’t want to bring little Stilinski werewolf pups into the world, do you? I mean seriously – there isn’t enough adderall in the world-“

“That’s all I want, Stiles,” whimpered Derek. “To have your babies. To have you knot me and fill me up. To make me fat with your seed. It’s all I want, Stiles. I want to give you babies. Lots and lots of babies. Please.” He twisted the handle with such severity that Stiles heard the lock break. In an instant a horny wet and naked Omega in heat would be charging through that door with werewolf strength. He found the pill and swallowed it dry and then he moved to his bedroom window.

It was a storey drop to the ground and Stiles knew he would probably break something, but he had to get away from Derek before he lost his mind too and this just went horribly wrong. He lifted the window and screamed at the sight of Scott’s face as he glared at him and growled, his eyes Alpha red, fangs dropping. He popped the screen out and clambered into the room just as Derek entered, desperate and craving.

They eyed each other and growled loudly. Stiles had to cover his ears and crouch, it was so fierce. “STOP!” he screamed. The werewolves regarded him for a moment and he took his opportunity. He ran to Derek and wrapped one of his t-shirts around his lower half and then turned back to Scott who was getting angry all over again. He said: “Sorry about the shovel, man, but I had to. He’s my Omega, alright? The quicker we all come to terms with that, the better.”

“But you said-“

“I know what I said, Scotty,” said Stiles, holding a hand out in desperate appeasement. “You need to go, okay? Let me handle this.”

Scotty narrowed his eyes at Derek. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

Derek had managed to drape himself over Stiles’ shoulder and was snuffling at his neck when Scott asked him the question. He looked up then, regarding them both with pleading eyes. Stiles spoke: “He couldn’t tell us, dude. Think about it. He’s a property-owning Beta as far as anyone knows. He’s got a life and a future. He doesn’t deserve to be tied down if he doesn’t want to.” He moved sidelong away from the doorway and Scott and toward his cork board where his bat leaned against the wall. Taking it up, he felt Derek press against him from behind. He almost lost his breath at the heat of him, but his will won out and he spoke again: “I know you feel that way too because we’ve talked about this, haven’t we, Scotty? We always told each other that if we were to find mates that they would be our mates on their own terms and not because of biology. Remember that?”

Scott nodded and squeezed his eyes shut. Stiles could see him pull back and away from the situation, taking deep breaths to calm himself. Considering the struggle he knew it was, Stiles was grateful his friend was even willing to hear him out. He could have easily just slit his throat and taken Derek at any point. “Why couldn’t I scent him?”

“Deaton. Suppressants. Werewolf strong. You know,” said Stiles, gripping his bat just in case.

 “Yeah,” said Scott, “Why is Derek not suppressed now?”

“Wolfboy here ran out,” said Stiles, pushing Derek’s head away from his neck only for the man to put it right back. He could feel his strong arms around him and his hardness rutting against the back of his left buttock. “C-could we please just get you to leave so I can lock him back up again?”

Scott was watching Derek with a tilted head and a dreamy expression until Stiles’ words snapped him out of it. “Yeah,” he said, a little too reluctantly, “Sure thing, man.” He turned toward the window and was halfway out when he turned to say: “You’re lucky you’re a friend, Stiles. Because with the way I feel - and I’m barely hanging on here - you’d have been dead a long time ago. And for the record: I hate that that’s the truth.”

“Gotcha,” said Stiles. As soon as Scott disappeared he pushed Derek off long enough to close the window, a last minute breeze clearing his head enough for him to speak calmly. “Der, gonna need you to remember our deal, man. You need to go upstairs. Right now. Okay?”

Derek had stood where Stiles had left him, one hand gripping the t-shirt at his groin. He was shivering. Stiles’ heart pulled at him and he scooped up his duvet from off the bed and hurriedly wrapped it around Derek’s shoulders. “Shhh…,” he said, hugging him and soothingly rubbing his back. “It’s all okay, Derek. I’ll take care of you. You just need to be patient. It’s all going to be okay.”

“You saved me from a double Alpha,” said Derek. “You shouldn’t have been able to do that.”

“Yeah well… I think I’m just lucky that guy is my best friend,” he said. “Now you hang on to the duvet and head upstairs. My scent is all over them. It may help.”

“It does help,” said Derek. “Your scent is calming. Better than the constant smell of mountain ash.”

“And yours is amazing too, baby,” he said. “But we both need to think of sober Derek, suppressed Derek. Remember him?”

“How are you doing this?” Derek asked.

“Doing what?”

“Resisting chemistry,” said Derek, “doing the right thing instead of mounting me?”

“I did say that I was a shit Alpha, right?” chuckled Stiles. “What’s the matter? Didn’t believe me?” Derek chuckled at that and shivered again. “Go upstairs. I’ll get you some more clothes. Go.”

“You know,” said Derek, “you could bite me and then I could bite you and you could defend me against anything.”

“Provided I survived the bite,” said Stiles. “Or were you forgetting the part where some people actually die from getting bitten by a werewolf? And besides: you’re not an Alpha anymore. You can’t just bite people and have them change. I’d need to go to Scotty for that. And I’m not going to do that.”

“But-“

“No, Derek. Now go upstairs before I satisfy your nether-regions with this bat.”

Derek let off a low growl and whine. “I wish you’d do something,” he mumbled.

“No you don’t. That’s the hormones talking,” said Stiles. He turned Derek, who went pliant in his hands, watching him with dreamy green eyes as he was led slowly down the hall, up the stairs and into the room once more.

“Need you, Alpha,” said Derek quietly as Stiles pushed him just the other side of the threshold with one hand and spread ash with the other. Stiles felt a pull, but it was nowhere near as strong as before. The suppressants had finally made an official appearance in his bloodstream.

“Shhh, Derek,” he soothed. “It’s going to be fine. I’m going to change clothes and then I’ll be back with water for you. You look a bit thirsty. Okay?”

“Yes, Stiles,” said Derek, sitting on the futon and wrapping the duvet tighter around him.

He seemed much more calm than he had been. Stiles wondered at that and asked: “You weren’t kidding when you said my scent calmed you?”

“No, Stiles,” said Derek. “And I’ll be a good boy for you now. Want to be. Want to be everything for you.”

Stiles closed his eyes and drank in the words. They sounded so good to him, so natural, as if Derek Hale being his Omega were the most expected thing in the universe. “I know you will, baby,” he said at last. “Just get some rest and I’ll bring you some water.”

“Okay, Stiles,” said Derek, snuggling into the duvet even more and lying down. “My Stiles… my Alpha.” The comfort of a warm duvet coupled with a cool room as well as the obvious exhaustion taking a shower and the confrontation must have brought on caused Derek to slip into an easy sleep. Stiles figured it was the first sound sleep he’d had in days and deep inside of himself he felt the Alpha satisfaction of successfully caring for his Omega.

Maybe this could work out after all.


	4. Chapter 4

It was altogether too comfortable to think of Derek as his Omega. Stiles had to keep reminding himself that the man didn’t belong to him, that Derek didn’t want to be bound to anyone at all. He would most certainly prefer to go back to everyone thinking he was a Beta/Beta and his life to be normal again. But Scott knew now. Scott, whom he had known all his life, whom he had shared good and bad times with. Surely Scott would keep his mouth shut about Derek. Scott was a good man. He was an even better werewolf. He wouldn’t do anything stupid like tell anyone that Stiles was harboring an unbound Omega in his house. No. Scott McCall could be trusted implicitly. And as Stiles put his head to his pillow that night, he would have bet his life on Scott being as true a friend as he always had.

The explosion rocked the house. Even Stiles, the heaviest sleeper in the known universe according to his father, woke from the sound with a start. He had his jeans halfway on when his father pounded on the door: “Get out of the house, Stiles! Your jeep is on fire in the driveway!”

“What?”

“You heard me. Now get out of the house!” he cried.

“What about Derek?”

There was a pause. “Alright,” he said. “Go get Derek and I’ll get the fire extinguisher from the kitchen. I’ve already called the BHFD.”

Stiles heard his father’s footsteps disappear down the stairs as he finished dressing. He tore down the hallway and up the attic stairs coming to a full stop at the open doorway of the small room where he had left Derek sleeping some six hours before. He had barred that door. He knew he had.

Inside there was Derek, still suffering from his heat, and Scott… Scott was there too, wolfed out and ready to mount and claim.

In the doorway was a line of mountain ash Stiles hadn’t put down. The door had been closed, there was no need. And it suddenly occurred to Stiles that Scott had gotten some ash from the jar outside the door and laid it down across the opening after he went through so to further trap Derek in case he tried to run. It was a cruel trick and not like Scott at all. Stiles couldn’t understand, but then, the double Alpha has larger demons to fight than the human version. Scott wasn’t Scott tonight. He couldn’t be reasoned with. He needed to be treated like the animal he was acting like.

“Scott!” cried Stiles before rushing his best friend, tackling him bodily and slamming them both into the wall. There was a deep growl and a shove and Stiles was hurled against the opposite wall, ribs aching, head spinning. It hurt to take a breath, but soon that was a moot point because Scott held him up by the throat against the wall, choking what little air he could get into his lungs.

“Stay out of my way, Stiles,” growled Scott. “I don’t want to have to kill you over what’s rightfully mine.”

“Yours?” croaked Stiles. “What the hell, dude? He’s not a possession! He’s a person! And what do you mean ‘rightfully’?”

“Rightfully as in he’s a Beta in my pack!” roared Scott. “He’s unbound and he’s mine!”

Stiles kicked his best friend in the gut and Scott released his grip, doubling over. Stiles swung at his face and his hand met concrete. He felt something pop in his hand and a shooting pain exploded in his knuckles. He cried out and shook his hand only to be backhand slapped by Scott who came up with another Alpha roar.

Stiles head swam and he shook it to clear it, pain throbbing in his face and neck. Scott rained blows down on Stiles’ head and neck until Stiles was curled up, his arms around his face. “Scotty,” he mumbled between blows. “Please don’t do this.”

“Scotty please don’t do this,” repeated Scott in a mocking tone just before punching him hard in the ribs. They both heard the crunch that accompanied the strike. Scott laughed as he watched Stiles struggle to breathe and walked confidently back to a whimpering Derek who sat curled up in a corner of the futon, back pressed to the wall. “You really are a pretty pathetic excuse for an Alpha, buddy. Shall I show you how it’s done? I mean, honestly – look at you! Who the hell would want to mate with you?”

Derek smacked the shit out of Scott as soon as he turned to look at him. Scott flew to the center of the room moaning. Derek stood over Scott’s body, skin covered in a sheen of heat-sweat. “I… I choose… Stiles,” he panted. Stiles didn’t know what he saw next because both Derek and Scott were a blur of motion. All he knew for sure was that the two werewolves were going at it fiercely – one who’s chemically warped brain was telling him that what he saw before him was his; the other, battling against an unwanted mating.

“Stop!” cried Stiles weakly, but it was to no effect. He could no more stop those two from beating the crap out of each other than he could a hurricane from hitting Beacon Hills. He could faintly hear his father calling his name outside, but he couldn’t move. That last blow he was dealt cut him low and he clutched his ribs as he rolled on the floor watching the two werewolves beat and claw each other: Scott aiming to kill, Derek looking to disable.

A spare jar of mountain ash fell off of a shelf and went crashing to the ground. Derek snatched some up in a fist and threw it in Scott’s face. Scott howled and backed off rubbing his eyes. Derek seized his opportunity and took up another handful, raced to Stiles, lifting him bodily. He made it as far as the doorway when Scott pulled him back. Derek flung Stiles out the door and he landed hard to the attic floor, the breath leaving his body with the impact, his ribs singing with outrageous new pain.

Stiles was a mess. Blood dripped in his eye from a cut in his hair and he could feel one of his eyes swelling. His hand throbbed as he braced himself to rise to his feet, his ribs screaming at him to just lay the fuck down. But Stiles had his own instincts to obey and they involved protecting his Omega to the point of death; whether his or Scott’s, only fate would tell.

He reached the doorway just as Derek was getting the upper hand in the fight. He turned to regard him and said: “Break the line, Stiles!” just before Scott got in another blow to his face. Stiles looked down at the line of ash and kicked at it, breaking the seal on the room. Derek raced out, slapping down another line of mountain ash seconds before Scott could make it to the doorway. Scott howled in rage and reached through the line, clawing at the mystical field with monstrous hands.

Derek pulled Stiles back and slammed the door, Stiles bashing the bar down hard into its home, sealing off the room. Scott pounded on the wood, but he couldn’t break it down; Alpha or no Alpha, he was trapped.

“Stiles!” called his father from somewhere below.

Stiles looked at Derek’s worried face, managed a weak “Derek?” and fainted.


	5. Chapter 5

It had been two months since Derek’s heat that brought them together and tonight was the night. It was the holiday season and Stiles had made all the arrangements: his dad was out of town on a criminal justice conference; there were soft white Christmas lights decorating his room, soft music, that “roaring fire” program on his computer. It was perfect for the current Christmas season, all soft and comfortable for his Omega. Stiles was nervous that it might not be enough.

“A bit overdone, don’t you think?” asked Derek. He stood in the doorway of Stiles’ bedroom, a long line of muscle and sex in jeans and a t-shirt.

Stiles swallowed hard at the sight of him. “I- I wanted tonight to be… um…”

“Perfect?” asked Derek, one eyebrow raised. “You know you don’t have to go to all this trouble.”

Stiles moved to him. “I was shooting for “Christmassy” but yeah - perfect works. This is what’s supposed to happen when bonding takes place, right? I mean, making the Omega as comfortable as possible, soft lights, soft sounds, soft sheets - I washed them three times with fabric softener.” He gestured to his bed which seemed a forlorn excuse for a place of consummation.

“So I smell,” said Derek. His grin peeked through against his will. He wanted to be annoyed with the amount of nervous energy that was pouring off of Stiles, but he was just so damned adorable. He held a warm hand to his cheek. “You know we don’t have to if you don’t want to. I know you think of this as an obligation, but it’s not. I was perfectly fine suppressing my heats with Deaton’s formula and I can go back to that. You don’t have to step up to the plate like this.

“But the thing is, Derek, I do. All of this is my fault and I know that you know that I would never get in the way of you and your life. I just wanted to make things as right as they could be for us.”

“Shhh…” said Derek as his thumb traced along Stiles’ cheek and across his jawline. He placed a small kiss to the side of his mouth and felt a shiver of want pass through him. “You are the best Alpha,” he whispered.

Stiles smiled and closed his eyes. The praise was good, but coming from Derek’s lips and directed toward him - that was great. “Gonna take really good care of you, Der. You’ll see.” He wrapped his arms around Derek in a protective hug. “I won’t let any other Alphas claim you. After tonight, no one will set their sights on you. Promise.”

“I know,” said Derek. “I only wish it hadn’t come down to this.” He recalled his behavior: Stiles kept refusing him and he tried so hard to resist his nature, but Scott was there and Scott was a double Alpha - werewolf Alpha and human Alpha - and he couldn’t stop himself. He was only able to resist his first confrontation with him because Stiles was in the room. Stiles protected him, gave him focus, calmed him down. Stiles was a miracle. But then Stiles wasn’t there the next time. Scott got in. He beat the crap out of Stiles and Stiles was nearly killed. Derek squeezed him tighter at the memory.

“Shhh…” said Stiles, it being his turn to comfort his Omega. Stiles kissed his cheek tentatively. “The same goes for you, you know. If you don’t want to… with me. I understand.”

“Are you kidding?” asked Derek. “After all the compassion and restraint you’ve shown me? After the beating you took?”

“Yeah,” said Stiles, his gut churning. He shouldn’t have survived that confrontation. He shouldn’t have been able to. But he did. And it was all because of Derek. He remembered the maniacal look in Scott’s eyes when his nature took hold. He remembered being smacked around, practically toyed with, by his best friend. He also remembered Derek’s reaction. The only thing that saved him was the fact that his Omega was also a Beta werewolf. But more than that, Derek was a Omega/Beta that cared about him, that wanted Stiles as his Alpha and Stiles alone. It was an epiphany for both of them. And in the end, no one mated with Derek during that heat.

The fact that Derek got Stiles out of the attic room and put down the line of mountain ash himself showed such respect and restraint that Stiles thought him truly super-human. He didn’t just do it because he didn’t want to be mated. He did it because he couldn’t make the clear choice of mate in his right mind - something Stiles was insistent upon - which meant that he was thinking of Stiles too. It meant so much to both of them.

“Scott’s still apologizing to me,” said Stiles, his voice muffled into the shoulder of Derek’s t-shirt.

“He should buy you a new car for Christmas,” said Derek. “Setting yours on fire wasn’t exactly nice.”

Stiles laughed and brought his head back. “No way he can afford that,” he said.

“Then maybe I should,” said Derek. “And then he can do some repairs in my building. Work off the debt.”

Stiles nodded, his mouth a moue of consideration and flirtation. “I like where your head is at, Hale. Now if you could just move it over here and kiss me properly, we might be able to get something going here.”

Derek gave him a full-blown smile at that before kissing him ardently on the mouth. One hand slipped up Stiles’ neck to cradle his head, the other wrapped around his back, pulling the Alpha closer. “Easy with the werewolf strength there pal,” said Stiles. “Not that I mind the odd bear hug, but um… if you could not break my ribs? Just managed to heal from the last time.”

“Shut up, Stiles,” murmured Derek.

Stiles gave him a mock-annoyed look. “Make me, wolfboy.”

Stiles’ back hit the bed with a creak of springs. Derek stalked to the bed and in one fluid motion of his arms, stripped himself of his t-shirt. “God damn and Merry Christmas to me,” whispered Stiles as Derek straddled his hips and bent down to kiss him again, his forearms bracketing Stiles’ head. “I’m gonna take such good care of you, baby,” Stiles cooed, carding his hands through Derek’s hair as the kiss left his lips and trailed down his neck.

Derek hummed with contentment. “Want you, Stiles. Want your cock. Want your bite. Please.”

“Oh yeah,” said Stiles, his fingers finding the triskelion tattoo on Derek’s back and tracing around its edges. “I’ll mark you like this tattoo. All mine.” He kissed him again, catching up his mouth as it left his collarbone. He worried Derek’s bottom lip with his teeth, his blunt nails dragging over his skin which seemed to get hotter as the moments passed. “You want that, baby? You want me to mark you?”

“You know I do,” said Derek, practically whining. His hips dipped down and brushed up against Stiles’ arousal. Stiles gave a huff of pleasure and nipped at the delicate skin of Derek’s throat. The skin would heal from any wound he gave it - except the bite of a bond-mate. Stiles couldn’t wait to see his mark on Derek days, weeks, months, years from now. His heart beat faster at the thought, causing his cock to throb all the more.

“Want me to knot you, babe?” asked Stiles, licking down Derek’s neck.

“Please, Stiles,” said Derek. “Please, Alpha.”

Stiles nibbled along his collarbone. “You’re going to feel so good, Derek,” he said. His hands moved down Derek’s back and snuck underneath the top of his jeans. He could feel the curve of his ass and he squeezed both cheeks with relish. “You’re going to fill up so nice.”

“Want this, Stiles,” moaned Derek. He was pressing down against Stiles in a decidedly wanton manner, his own arousal flipping over and around Stiles’ even through their clothing. “Got to get these clothes off. Please, Alpha… please.” He rucked up Stiles’ shirt and licked at one nipple then the other.

“Fuck,” sighed Stiles and he maneuvered to get his shirt off, but it was a button-down and he couldn’t find the top button to undo it so he could get his head through-

There was a sudden sound of buttons popping and material tearing as Derek opened the shirt up and scooped it from beneath Stiles, pulling it off his arms and hurling it across the room. A growl followed and the flash of blue Beta eyes caused Stiles to gasp. “My Alpha,” Derek managed between heaving breaths. “I want every part of you. I want you inside me. Need your scent. Need your bite.” He licked a wide stripe up the center of Stiles’ chest beginning at his belt buckle and ending at the tip of his chin. “I’m gonna be such a good Omega for you, Stiles.” He kissed the words onto Stiles’ mouth as the other man moaned with want.

“On your back, Der,” said Stiles. “And lose the clothes.” Derek whined a bit but did what he was told, Stiles removing his clothing as hurriedly as possible so he could touch as much of Derek’s skin as he could. This had been a long time coming and Stiles wasn’t about to waste a moment.

It seemed that Derek had the same thing in mind because his clothes seemed to evaporate in an instant. He was naked and presenting to Stiles when Stiles turned around to get back in bed. And the scent of Derek was overwhelming.

His cunt was dripping and Derek traced a fingertip through it and along the back of his thigh. His forehead was pressed to the pillow and he glanced back to see how pleased his Alpha was that he was so ready so quickly. “Is this good, Stiles? Did you want me like this? Need you, babe. Please.”

Stiles swallowed hard and tried to remember to breathe. Fainting here would accomplish nothing and he needed to be a strong Alpha tonight. The only trouble with that plan was that he was kind of a shit Alpha (as that goes) and he had never mounted anyone before. He had only read about this stuff in textbooks and seen a few pornos - okay a LOT of pornos - online. But in the pornos, the Omegas were helpless in their heats. And they looked nothing like Derek Hale who was all muscle and power and holy shit that ass is REAL? The porno Omegas were always these weak simpering pathetic things that looked easy to dominate, but that’s what the porn industry knew Alphas wanted to see: omegas as willing and weak.

But Derek was the exception to all the rules. He was deferring to him as the Alpha, it was true, but there was so much more there: power in his submission, strength in his need. And it was all on display for Stiles. He took a moment, a breath, and joined his Omega on the bed, plunging his face into Derek’s sweet ass and tasting his slick for the first time. It was warm and slightly sweet, which was unexpected. He felt he had to taste more. Derek gasped at his first touch, but soon relaxed into the feel of Stiles’ face and probing tongue and that not-quite-there need that was curling low in his belly. “Stiles… Alpha… Please…” was all he was able to manage that Stiles recognized as English as he tasted deeper and deeper, losing himself to the flavor and scent of his one true Omega.

His fingertips sank into Derek’s flesh as he worked the cheeks apart and hummed with pleasure. He needed this so much. They both did. Stiles was only grateful that Derek had trusted him in the first place, that he thought of him in his time of trouble just a few months ago. He lifted his face away and put a finger inside him, kissing the base of his spine gently. “Just think, Der. I’ll be able to help you during a heat.” He nibbled at his skin. “I’ll be able to touch you and fuck you and knot you and fill you up.” Derek moaned with bliss.

Stiles moved his fingers in and out of Derek’s slick hole, watching as he fell apart under his hands. His body undulated with the pressure of it, his muscles rippling under the skin. Stiles licked and kissed at the tattoo on Derek’s back. “Oh God, Stiles… so good,” murmured Derek. He was lost to himself, caught somewhere between lucid enjoyment of the moment and utter ecstasy. No more would he ever have to worry about suppressing his heats thanks to Stiles. He was going to be the perfect Alpha: one who wasn’t out to totally control Derek, one who would understand his need for a bit of freedom, and one to whom he could come home at the end of a long day and he could give everything over, leave all his stresses outside the closed doors and breathe.

Of course, that would be before Stiles was nibbling at the skin over his spine and shoving two fingers deep inside of him; Derek almost forgot to breathe when the second finger was pushed in. “So beautiful, Derek. You are so fucking gorgeous. This is better than anything I could have dreamed. Thank you for this, baby.”

Derek keened and arched back harder onto Stiles’ fingers. “You like that?” he asked Derek. “You want more?”

“I love it,” said Derek. “More, Stiles. Please, Alpha. Please.”

The more he begged the heavier Stiles’ cock became. He was almost ready to pop his knot as it was. If he waited any longer and heard any more from that sensual mouth of Derek’s, he would spend himself all over Derek’s back and thighs. And that would never do. “Shhh, Der,” soothed Stiles. He rubbed Derek’s ass with his free hand and placed kisses along the flesh. He moved to place himself behind Derek and leaned over him: “Are you sure this is what you want, Derek?”

Derek looked back, his human eyes filled with a calm peace. “I’m sure, Stiles.” A pause. Derek seemed to be considering what to say next. He settled for a simple: “Thanks.”

“Hey,” he said. “You’re my Omega. I’ve got to take care of you. This is important.” He took a deep breath and lined himself up. He pushed in slowly. It was so tight and hot inside Derek; Stiles wanted to weep with joy, but Derek seemed to be doing it for both of them. He let out a small sound like a whimper and Stiles saw him fist the sheets. He stopped pushing.

Smoothing soothing hands along Derek’s sides and back, Stiles asked: “Everything alright, Der? You okay, baby? Hurt much?”

“N-no,” stammered Derek. “F-feels so g-good. More. Need more. Please. Want you to knot me.”

Stiles was certainly ready to. With the way his cock felt, heavy and no doubt dripping inside of Derek already, he needed to come badly. He took a breath and pressed in again, steady and strong, Derek taking him in slowly but easily. The heat of him was overwhelming. Stiles collapsed against his back and pressed his lips at the base of his neck as he slowly began to undulate in and out, savoring each second of the feel of him.

He could feel Derek reflexively clench against him and he grasped his hips tighter and licked his neck, sucking, nipping, and pooling his saliva, waiting for the crest of the orgasm he knew would come crashing down around his ears so he could bite deeply and mark his Omega for life. The build of it was unbelievably slow, intoxicating. He found a speed of undulation that worked for them both, a sweet mix of pulling out slowly, snapping forward, and side-to-side that had Derek humming, keening, and snapping his hips backward to meet his forward motion.

At one point, Stiles stopped moving and let Derek fuck himself on his cock. He watched with slack-jawed fascination as his dick disappeared and reappeared inside that perfect tanned ass. He vaguely wondered why Derek didn’t have a tan line; the possibilities made Stiles’ head spin and he felt his knot pop. He collapsed against Derek with a groan as the overwhelming feeling of euphoria swept over him and he bit down on Derek hard.

He heard Derek let go with a wolf howl and he wrapped a hand around his throat for control as he sunk his teeth further in. The bond moved through them both, linking them, connecting them irrevocably with one another. Stiles tasted the tang of blood and it only drove him to come harder. “Fill me up, Stiles. Feels so good,” Derek panted.

“Ugh, yes, Derek,” said Stiles, his orgasm thrumming throughout his body. It slowly faded off, his knot keeping him inside Derek’s heat, and with a few more pumps of his hips the orgasm built again and he came hard again. He licked and sucked at his bite, deepening the mark that made Derek his. “I’ve wanted this for so long, baby. You feel amazing. So gorgeous.”

Slowly they collapsed to the right, Stiles linked to Derek by his knot, and spooned, slowly fucking, bonding, biting, loving each other they way they were born to, trusting the other forever. For always.


End file.
